


Gimme Shelter

by RedLeaderfic



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Tyson Kidd/Natalya/Cesaro, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Reunion Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/pseuds/RedLeaderfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sami makes a long overdue phone call. Sometimes when you need a soft place to fall the best thing you can do is find someone else in need of the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimme Shelter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APgeeksout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/gifts).



Sami toyed with the phone for a few minutes before pulling up his contacts, lost his nerve, played a few rounds of Trivia Crack, pulled up the contacts again and stared at Cesaro's number until the screen went dark. 

He woke the phone back up, shaking his head at himself. He was being ridiculous, he didn't even know what he was getting himself anxious over. He and Cesaro were friends, after all – well, maybe not _friends_ per se, it wasn't as if they'd really ever been the talk all the time types. Sami wasn't sure when the last time they'd talked had actually been, now that he thought about it. He was pretty sure congratulations for title wins over twitter didn't count for that.

That was probably part of the problem now, he realized. Sami knew he should have made this call weeks ago. 

Sami took a deep breath and hit send, realizing a second too late that maybe he should just send a text first in case he was interrupting something. 

It took only took two rings for Cesaro to pick up, which at least prevented Sami from thinking himself in any more circles. “Sami?”

He hadn't expected Cesaro to sound so honestly delighted to hear from him. “Yeah, Antonio, it's me. Or wait, am I not supposed to call you that anymore?” He heard Cesaro chuckle and then a door closing, the buzz of background noise going quiet. “What _happens_ to you all when you get called up there?”

“If your name has more than four syllables one of them must be sacrificed to the wrestling gods.”

“Especially if it starts with an A, right?”

“The wrestling gods are very particular.” Another chuckle, this time ending in what sounded to Sami like a very tired sigh. “How's the shoulder?”

“Eh, you know how it goes. Taking longer than I'd hoped it would, but I'd hoped it would be good to go the next day, so. Doomed to disappointment there. How are you doing?”

“Good, good,” he answered, to Sami's ears just a shade too fast. “Tyson's far ahead of where the doctors predicted he would be, he's already able to take the brace off for a---”

“I, um, I actually gave Tyson a call this morning so I know he's doing great. And that's not really what I asked. How are _you_?” 

It took a few seconds to get an answer to that. “You picked the worst time possible to be injured, you know. You would be on Raw tomorrow if you weren't, everyone here knows that. I would love to see Owens' face when you finally walk through that curtain, we've needed you here for a long time.”

“Where do you need me to be?”

Sami could almost see that pull Cesaro off balance. Cesaro was a hard man to read sometimes but, well. Sami supposed he'd always been better than most. “I'll be in Chicago in eighteen hours.”

“Y'know, that's funny, there's a specialist there the trainers have been bugging me to talk to. Good chance for us to catch up while I'm in town, right?”

“Sami, you don't have to---”

“Hey, like I said, I'm going to be there anyway.”

“I...thank you. If it's really not out of your way. It...it really has been too long.”

Sami ended the call before either of them could get any more emotional – too much to do for that. Sami had plane tickets to buy and an appointment to cancel (his physical therapists were going to be pretty upset with him about that, but he'd figure something out) and a few other things to rearrange but this time tomorrow he was going to be halfway across the country or he'd hang up his boots for good.

Sami'd been right, though. That was definitely a call he should have made weeks ago.

***

Sami had hoped to surprise Cesaro before Raw (and maybe give Kevin a little scare, if he was going to be honest with himself) but flight delays meant he had to be satisfied with following the match with Cena on twitter and dealing with that little stab of guilt that Kevin ruined everything. Ruined everything _again_. At the rate he was going by the time his shoulder finally healed up Sami might have to fight a tournament just to get first crack at him, so many other guys would already be standing in line. 

Sami put all that out of his mind. That day was a long way off, if it ever even came, and none of it had anything to do with why he was standing in this hotel hallway. 

He was nervous again. Sami didn't know why that kept happening.

When he finally knocked on the door it opened while he was still mid knock; before Sami was even close to ready Cesaro was standing there in a crisp white shirt and nice black dress slacks, giving Sami a panicked second of trying to remember if they'd agreed to go out and he'd completely blanked on it. “Hey, you look gre---”

Cesaro kissed him right there in the hallway, cradling one hand against the curve of Sami's jaw and cutting him off mid word. By the time he pulled away Sami felt a little light-headed. He'd forgotten just how great Cesaro was at that.“You're late.”

Sami realized he should say something. “Sorry?”

Cesaro grinned and swung the door open, gesturing at Sami to come inside. “I don't like your friend,” he said, turning away toward a nice spread on the room desk and pouring two glasses of what to Sami looked like some _very_ nice red wine. 

Sami closed the door behind him. “Yeah, I'm not too crazy about him right now either.”

“Of course you are.” Cesaro sat on the edge of the bed and handed Sami one of the glasses, not a trace of judgment in him. “You wouldn't be Sami Zayn if you weren't.” He even came up with a way to save Sami from having to answer that. “No sling?”

“No, not for about a week now.” Sami nodded over to the covered trays on the desk. “What's all this about?”

“This hotel has a Michelin star restaurant. It seemed like the perfect occasion to indulge in a little room service. And I assumed you would be hungry.”

“I am _so_ hungry, you can't even imagine,” Sami said, taking a tray that looked like one of those steak dinners you usually could only order from restaurants that didn't put prices on menus. “This looks amazing.”

“I don't know if it's still hot---”

“I do not care.” Cesaro shook his head at him and reclined back on the bed, his shirt riding up in a way that made Sami completely forget about food for a second. Sami remembered early on when he and Cesaro had just starting to circle each other; he'd bought himself a nice suit like one he'd seen Cesaro wearing and couldn't figure out why it hadn't looked half as good on him. Eventually he'd realized wearing clothes so well was just another talent Cesaro had been born with, the same as lifting ridiculous weights over his head without even breathing hard. 

Cesaro caught him staring. “What? I thought you liked this shirt.”

“I do! I just, I don't know. I feel a little under dressed.”

“ _You_?” Cesaro leaned up on his elbows. “You once argued with me for over an hour that flat caps counted as formal wear.”

“Sometimes they can be! It depends on what else you're wearing.” Someday Sami would convince him of this. “Twitter blew up during your match with Cena by the way, I saw a bunch of tweets calling it the match of the year.”

“I would have preferred a different ending.”

“Yeah, I bet. Sorry about that.”

“Don't be, you didn't run in on the match.” Cesaro nodded to his plate. “Finish your dinner,” he said, laying back down and rubbing his hands over his face.

Sami didn't have to be told twice. “Hey, you sure you want company tonight? I know John hits hard, you look a little---”

“Don't even think about finishing that sentence.”

Sami hadn't really intended to go anywhere, but that was still nice to hear. He'd figured out why his nerves had been so shaky over everything – the previous times he and Cesaro had messed around it had always been at the spur of the moment, adrenaline getting the better of them in the back or that one great night they'd gone out for drinks after the show and Cesaro had just enough beers to start mixing up his languages. 

Tonight was different, though. This was deliberate, planned out. It felt a little more serious.

Sami wished he'd thought to wear a nice shirt, too. “This is okay, right?” Sami said, gesturing vaguely around the room. Cesaro gave him a questioning look and Sami tapped his fork against the empty plate. “I mean, you seem like you've got a good thing going. I don't want to mess anything up.”

Cesaro smiled when he figured out what Sami was getting at. “When I spoke to Nattie this morning she said to be very careful with you.” 

“It's so funny when you call people by their nicknames. Sorry, keep going.”

“She made it seem like people from Montreal are very fragile. I think there's Canadian nuance I'm missing?”

Sami made a show of rolling his eyes. “Everyone from out west acts like they're so tough.”

“Is that the trade-off for not learning 'French'?”

Sami could hear the quotation marks around the word and grinned. Now this felt like old times. “Are you going to get me on my French again?”

“If you keep insisting on calling it French.”

“There's nothing wrong with it. It's fine.”

“My offer to teach you the language properly is still open.”

“I hope you're teaching them. People from Calgary coming into Montreal speaking French will get some good heat.” Sami wished he hadn't said that. It had been a joke but it didn't land the way he'd hoped; Cesaro's expression fell and the energy in the room dropped. Sami wanted to apologize but had a feeling that would make things worse. 

Fortunately when Cesaro spoke up again he didn't sound angry, just thoughtful. “How do you know I have a good thing?”

Sami shrugged. “You've looked happy. We keep an eye on things when you guys fly up to the main roster, y'know. You looked really frustrated for a long time but there hasn't been any of that the past few months, not even when you guys dropped the belts.”

Cesaro stared at the ceiling longer than Sami really would have liked. “You're very perceptive.”

“Yeah, look, you're literally wearing your heart on your sleeve out there lately, you're not as hard a read as you think. If I were any kind of judge of people I'd have so many fewer problems right now.”

Cesaro drummed his fingers against the comforter for a few seconds, then sat back on the edge of the bed. “I want to make a rule. Within these walls,” he said, gesturing around the room, “no outside worries enter. They stop at that door. Agreed?”

“That sounds _great_.”

“Good. Now stop being so far away.”

That was all Sami needed to hear. He was barely able to get within reach before Cesaro pulled him practically on top of him, forcing Sami to straddle across his lap to keep toppling over. “Yeah, I like this better too,” Sami said as he felt Cesaro slide his hands up under his shirt. 

The very first time they'd ever kissed Sami distinctly remembered thinking it wasn't fair that Cesaro could be good at _everything_. He was, though. Sami tried to unbutton Cesaro's shirt but had to give up after the first two, Cesaro kissing him made it impossible to focus on anything except kissing back. It definitely made balancing on the edge of the bed harder; when he pulled back for a quick breath he almost fell over backwards before Cesaro caught him, cradling his head as he pulled Sami back to a more secure position. “Careful.”

“You were warned about how breakable I am.”

Cesaro pulled him back into another kiss, a deep, slow one this time that made Sami wish he'd thought to take off his clothes as soon as he'd gotten into the room. Cesaro started ghosting his fingertips up Sami's spine, just lightly enough to make him shiver. “I'd hoped that would still work,” he murmured up against Sami's lips. 

“Trust me, all of this is working.” 

Sami _felt_ Cesaro smile. “Hold on.” Before Sami could react he felt Cesaro wrap both arms around his waist, picking him right up from the bed and pressing him against the wall. 

“Show off,” Sami said, a little giddy at how easy it seemed for Cesaro to do that. He locked his legs around Cesaro's waist and held on tight, wondering if they were going to do this up against the wall. They'd managed that once. That had been a hell of a night, Sami had dreamed about it for weeks after. This time Cesaro seemed more interested in kissing him breathless, which Sami would never complain about. He managed to get the rest of the buttons undone, then he locked his good arm around Cesaro's neck and the other around his waist. After a minute or so he felt a twinge in his shoulder, not a bad one, just a _hey, maybe watch out_ signal, and pulled back from the kiss. “Sorry, shoulder's not liking this.”

“That's all right. I want to take my time anyway.” He set Sami down and stepped back, needing to put one hand on the bed to balance. Sami would never say it out loud, but seeing Cesaro disheveled and out of breath like this did almost as much for him as seeing him out of his clothes entirely.

Almost. Cesaro beckoned him over and Sami pulled off his shirt and went for him, straddling across his waist this time as Cesaro lay back. He could feel how hard Cesaro was through those fancy dress slacks and traced the hollow of his throat with his tongue to muffle his groan. “Gotta be honest, taking any more time isn't gonna work for me.” Cesaro outright laughed at that, which was a great thing to hear. He kissed Sami again and then pushed him up, discarding the last of his clothes and inviting Sami to do the same. Once that was done Sami stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes as Cesaro started ghosting his fingertips up and down Sami's spine again. “How are you so good at that?”

“Talent.” He felt Cesaro loom over him and just the anticipation was enough to get Sami's heart pounding. “What would be the best way for your shoulder?”

“Like this is great. I can brace up on my elbows, I just can't support my own weight or raise my arm too high. As long as you're not hanging me from the ceiling or something we should be fine.”

“Don't give me ideas,” Cesaro murmured and Sami had never hated his stupid injured shoulder more in his life. “But I don't think tonight is the time for anything quite so dramatic.” Sami felt Cesaro ease himself between his legs. “I didn't realize how much I missed being able to do this.”

Sami wished he could come up with some witty banter for that but Cesaro chose that moment to lean across Sami's back and kiss him, the sudden skin contact making Sami moan into the kiss. Cesaro shifted off the bed for a few seconds, then Sami felt the cold bite of lube. “Man, Antonio, do you refrigerate that stuff?” 

“Stop squirming,” Cesaro said, laughing at Sami. “Hold still.” Sami managed to get back in position and Cesaro trailed his fingers down Sami's back one more time. “If the shoulder starts giving you any problems say something right away.”

“It'll be fine. I wish I could do this instead of rehab everyday.” And even if his shoulder gave out, he thought Cesaro would be able to hold him up anyway. Sami wondered what it meant that the thought turned him on so much. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax when he felt Cesaro press into him. Cesaro was always very careful about this part, going slow enough it stoked the anticipation so high Sami felt like he was going to come out of his skin. “You can be a little – oh, wow. A little rougher, if you want.”

“But you Quebecois are so very fragile, I've heard,” Cesaro countered, and Sami loved it when he got in a teasing mood. A second later he was all the way inside with one final, hard thrust and that felt so good Sami's vision blurred. 

Cesaro set a slow, teasing rhythm, leaning over Sami to whisper something in his ear Sami didn't catch. “Say that again?” Sami said, doing his best to pull his focus together.

Cesaro laughed when he repeated it and this time Sami caught that it was in French. Sami wouldn't admit it, it would ruin the running joke, but Cesaro did have a point about his French, living half his life now in the US had eroded what he'd started with and Cesaro's European French was so different from what he'd grown up hearing he'd never been great at parsing it anyway.

None of that changed that Sami loved hearing it. “Keep talking like that.”

“Do you know _what_ I'm saying?”

About half of it. Maybe. “Whatever it is, keep saying it.” 

Cesaro did just that as he picked up the pace. After few minutes Sami gave up trying to follow it and just listened to the flow of the words, wondering how much of it was filthy. Sami hoped all of it. At some point Cesaro switched to Italian and Sami moaned at that, the combination of Cesaro's voice and feeling him move inside him getting Sami so close it almost hurt.

Cesaro was out of breath now too and Sami loved hearing him like that. He wondered if Cesaro was holding off to watch Sami come. He'd always come first now that he thought about it and the thought that Cesaro might be doing that intentionally was enough to make him light-headed. Cesaro broke off the words and kissed Sami between his shoulder blades, moaning a little himself now. Sami felt him reach around to wrap one hand around his shaft and that was all Sami needed, that one touch was enough to push him right over the edge. Sami shook so hard Cesaro did have to hold him up, kissing him as he came himself. They collapsed back to the bed in a tangled heap and Sami thought he'd be perfectly happy if they never moved again.

For a few minutes all they did was gasp for air in the hotel room, sweat cooling on their skin. Sami couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so great. He swung one leg over Cesaro's to pull him closer, wanting to make sure that feeling lasted as long as possible. 

“What did Tyson say?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you'd called him. Then you called me.”

“Oh. Y'know. Catching up stuff. He asked if you and I had talked lately. Thought maybe we should catch up.” He didn't say _Got the feeling he was kind of worried about you_ , hoping that would be obvious. Cesaro got emotional for an instant before trying to hide it, so Sami figured that had come through well enough. “You know you deserve all the good things happening to you lately, right?”

He didn't answer. Sami hadn't expected him to, but he'd needed to say it. “You don't deserve all the bad things happening to you lately,” he finally said. “And you're breaking the rule.”

“You did it first.”

“This is exactly why everyone punches you.” 

“Yeah, it's my one true talent.” He maneuvered Cesaro more comfortably on top of him. “Get some sleep. You look like you haven't slept in years.”

He thought Cesaro actually blushed at that. “I'm not used to sleeping in empty rooms anymore.”

“Well, you don't have that problem tonight.”

“I needed this so much.”

“Did just as much for me. How long do you need me to hang around?”

“You don't want me to answer that honestly.”

“Kinda do, I admit it.” Sami kissed him. Sami thought about how easily he could get used to not sleeping in an empty room again himself. “We'll play it by ear.” 

“I don't understand how I'm able to be so lucky.”

“Hey, like you said before. Talent.” 

Cesaro chuckled and pulled Sami into a slow, deep kiss. “When we're on the same roster again I might not let you out of my sight again.”

“I think I can live with that. Go to sleep.”

When Cesaro did just that a few minutes later, still wrapped around Sami, Sami knew he had to get this shoulder fixed as soon as possible.

He definitely wanted the chance to get used to this.


End file.
